inkwell veins

With Crowley’s protest, with Crowley’s offer, with the fact that she suddenly couldn’t seem to find anyone who would serve as adequate distraction, with the fact that there wasn’t really anything significant enough to say to what was left of the harmless part of their conversation that could distract from the bigger matter at hand, Renee now found herself in a position she wasn’t often in: genuinely speechless. After all, Renee was really best at responding to genuine sentiments with lies. Being herself, responding in kind, that wasn’t a well-practiced skill, even as it was absolutely necessary here. Gaze searched Crowley’s expression looking for the joke, but instead she only saw absolute honesty.

Mouth opened and then shut, silently, as she tried to come up with something to say and found herself still unable to come up with anything, uncomfortable in the idea that she was absolutely vulnerable right now. And yet, instead of scrambling to fix it, mind flashed to an afternoon one-hundred and twenty-two years ago, one where she had prayed to Belial and meant it, to an afternoon where she had naively, blindly believed in him. Could she do that for Crowley? Could she believe like that again, believe enough to pray to her? Did she want to? 

In answer, mind flashed, then, to a far more recent moment, to Crowley begging her to save herself, to let herself be saved, to stop punishing herself with her own weakness, with the fallacy of attributing everything to Belial, with the idea that there was nothing left for her to do without his backing or the underlying security he gave. She had ruined her phone then, deliberately shattered it rather than listen to Crowley’s voicemail, but much later, when she finally pulled herself together and started putting everything back together best as could be done, she had realized she had unheard voicemails, forgetting that one of them would be Crowley’s; sitting there listening to old messages to clear her inbox, that one caught her by surprise, and made her cry. But she had never done anything with that, because what was there to say? She had never found strength in apologizing; it was just easier to pretend she had never heard it at all and hope that Crowley was happy enough to see her back to herself, that she wouldn’t have to apologize for disappointing her, for hurting her when that hadn’t been the intent behind her choices and instead merely collateral damage.

Silly as it seemed on the surface, as counter as Crowley was to everything she had made herself with her careful games and how controlled she kept her persona as Vice, Renee could believe in Crowley. How could she not? Crowley believed in her when she hadn’t even believed in herself. And yet even knowing that, it didn’t give an easy answer and she still had to say something, didn’t she? Head shook as she went with her gut and asked the one question she couldn’t get out of her head, the one thing that she didn’t understand no matter which way she looked at it. “Honestly, Crowley, what did I ever do to deserve someone like you in my life or an offer like that? I never tried to manipulate you or charm you or make you like me and yet, you’ve done more for me than anyone else I’ve ever met. I don’t understand. You’ve never asked for anything in return.”

Everything seemed to pause as Crowley looked at Renee. Once again, she knew the questions that people asked. Why Renee? Why was she so affectionate to the woman? Why did she trust the woman that she shouldn’t? God, she knew the stories and the games that Belial and Renee played. How could she not? They were a legend. Belial was someone she could never replace to Renee and nor did she want to. She didn’t want to be Renee’s Belial. She couldn’t be her Belial even if she did try. She wanted to be her Crowley. She wasn’t so foolish to think that Renee needed a protector or a daughter or a lover. However, Crowley was ready to be whatever Renee needed in the moment. Perhaps it was because Crowley wanted someone similar for herself. She knew what it was like to come from being human and to make something of yourself. Maybe she was foolishly sentimental but it took effort and it was exhausting at times to continuously hold yourself up surrounded by demons always out to get you. 

Satan, Belial, Abaddon, even Lucifer had no idea what it was to be human. Sure, they might have loved at times and lost at times but there was still something so inhuman about them. They’d never know what it would be like to be human, to live and die with beliefs, problems, triumph. Renee knew though. Babylon knew. Perhaps that was why she treasured them so because they knew what it was like to bob and weave their way through the unknown. Renee had lived so many lives and of course, they took their toll on her but she was a figure always emerging from the rubble. She pulled herself up again and again and Crowley wanted to do the same. Crowley wanted that resolve and strength. Her other half had turned out to be the one trying to destroy the world but the woman was still fucking here. Even though it must have killed her, Renee hadn’t joined War’s side even if he did posses the demon that had been her other half for centuries.

 It was inspiring. It was rare that Crowley was actually impressed, truly impressed to her core but time and time again, Renee impressed her. She inspired her to continue. Crowley would do everything she possibly could in the days to come - no matter how limited they might be - to make sure that flame in Renee wasn’t snuffed out. 

She couldn’t find Crowley. 

The thought made her stomach drop and throat dry up in a way it’d only done a few times before - don’tcrydon’tcrydon’tcry. Gone didn’t mean dead, she told herself. ( Except when one was surrounded by Horsemen and in the middle of the Apocalypse it just might. ) The plan wasn’t a particularly well thought out one but how in the hell had it gone so wrong? They’d witnessed first hand just what Famine was capable of so why had they fallen for his tricks just the same? Nonetheless, she attempted to push through her fear as best she could; the air was thick with it and she was suffocating in the stuff - that or she was choking on her own tongue. It was hard to tell.

Crowley had never seemed particularly ambitious in her own right so when Babylon had turned around to find she’d lost track of the Demon, she’d hoped they’d simply gotten separated and that the other wasn’t on some glory seeking mission to take on Donato herself. She closed her eyes and begged Lucifer to help her and even though she doubted he could hear, just the thought of her father figure was enough to give her a dose of courage that she wasn’t sure she could’ve mustered on her own. She continued on more determined than ever and stumbled through a doorway…to the outside? She didn’t have time to ponder exactly how she’d gotten out there before she heard what she’d realize was a flap of wings once, twice, three times before she looked up and vaguely made out a figure in the sky. The silhouette was little more than a blur against the red moon in the background but still it was impossible not to know who it was..And then just like that she began falling. 

There was no time to think before acting, Babylon’s hands stretching outwards before her wings had even come out and she pushed off the ground in a desperate effort to reach Crowley even quicker. The force was nearly enough to knock the both of them out of the sky even after Crowley was safely in her arms but luckily she was able to land the both of them without incident, cradling a gravely injured Crowley’s head in her lap as she tried to gently lay her body on the asphalt under them. “I thought it was the knight in shining armor supposed to be doing the rescuing.” She choked out though unsure Crowley was even awake to hear her. “I’m no knight but I hope you’re not disappointed that it’s just me.” She lightly nudged the mass in her arms, trying not to shift her too much in the process. “Crowley can you hear me?”

She opened her eyes once as she fell, hazily staring up at the red moon. Part of her knew she should try to flap her wings, to stop herself before she made contact with the ground but nothing in her body wanted to respond to her thoughts. All she could do is fall, something that pissed her off. Crowley hated having her choices taken from and that her survival instinct was impaired. She had survived so much, why did her body choose now to fail her the most? Briefly, a delirious part of her mind reminded her that she had died of a heroin overdose but Crowley pushed that aside. 

She dropped through the air like a stone and all Crowley could do was close her eyes and pray to lose consciousness once more. It seemed like her mind was going to give her what it wanted, the corners of her sight bleeding even blacker. However, before she could hit the ground, something less hard hit Crowley first. Strong arms wrapped their way around Crowley’s body, cradling her against someone’s body. Off the top of her head, her mind refused to name names on who it could be. Either way, with her eyes closed and the overwhelming rush of emotion, the young chaos demon felt her body begin to shake. She trembled against the other person, curling closer. 

One, two, three, four, Crowley counted each flap of her wings deliriously as soon as she was able to push herself into a standing position. She would have dropped back down to the ground with her legs giving out if it weren’t for her raven wings. They lifted her off the ground if only by muscle memory and pure need to get away from the building. She knew in the back of her mind that Magda had been spirited away safely somehow - if not by Raziel then by Joshua and Maria - so she allowed herself to revert to full primal mode, acting only on survival. Five, six, seven, eight. Her eyes couldn’t decide whether or not they wanted to stay open, fluttering between shut and barely open. She had to keep moving and she couldn’t focus on the pain, if she focused on the pain....she focused on the pain.

There was so much pain. Pain in her arms, her chest, her lungs, everywhere that she could possibly know. Blood coated the inside of her mouth, threatening to choke her with every gasp she took. Nine, ten, eleven, twelve. Her head spun as she hovered in the air above the illuminated city of Los Angeles. It was burning but it didn’t compare to the burning in her lungs. She felt like she was dying again. Crowley had heard tales of the Behemoth but her arrogance once again saw her fail. 

It wasn’t Crowley’s intention, Renee absolutely believed that, but the second the words flew out of her mouth, they stabbed Renee right where the hurt still lived most. For all intents and purposes, she’d moved on because she hadn’t had another choice, and had realized that; there had come a point where she had to find herself, had to pick herself up and be who she was regardless of what she had lost, be what was left. And yet, what would come after all this was said and done, if someone managed to come up with something clever enough, had crossed her mind more than once in the interval since settling back into Vice’s skin. Belial had kept her around a long time, longer than any human had any right to live and that by her view was loyalty; in hindsight, she knew just how disposable she was, but for the fact that he had gone to the trouble to have her, gone through the work of making a possession of her and knew that the loyalty had come of that more so that anything else, but the bind was still loyalty all the same and she knew she wanted it again ( which she knew was almost insane, but that changed nothing ). She couldn’t imagine giving up the one thing she had left and leaving it for someone else to manage, couldn’t imagine acquiescing to Death again simply because she had lost the means by which she was supposed to avoid it, and had no desire for black wings; her church needed a human touch, she couldn’t do that in those circumstances, and she didn’t want to watch someone else try.

Renee tried to hide the hurt, really she did, but it flashed across face, morphing features into something vulnerable. “Don’t,” she warned softly, “Don’t promise me that, Crowley,” she added, before glancing away and cutting herself off with brutal efficiency before she could add the unless and what would follow if had less control of herself: ‘unless you mean to give me the loyalty to which I’m accustomed. Would you have me Crowley? Would you even want to?’ She let a few more seconds pass by before she glanced back to Crowley, expression far more neutral, now eager for the distraction of a third person, even if only temporary. Gaze scanned the room then, seeking the face of their topic of discussion through the crowd before she shook her head, “Or rather, I would if I had any idea where she’s gone.”

“But what if I did?” Crowley asked, suddenly serious. The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to know. Loyalty, perhaps, was her fatal flaw, her achilles tendon. Crowley couldn’t think of one moment when she had been disloyal to someone. Even as a human, her loyalty had been something deep and strong. She had never cheated on anyone, nor betrayed the trust of those she gave her true loyalty to. She had never strayed, never backstabbed, she had picked a side and stayed there for all the wars she had been in. Wasn’t that why she had been given the grail on this night? Because she was loyal to Lucifer? Perhaps that was why Abaddon had been Prince for so long - because she betrayed whomever for the chaos. Crowley could respect that and in truth, she envied that. But as she looked at Renee, she didn’t want that. Prince was too much responsibility anyway.  Her expression in this moment was genuine and honest, eyes rounder than they had ever been. “What if I did promise you loyalty? You deserve it, don’t you?” Please let me give you that loyalty. God, Belial had done a number on Renee. In this moment, she envied Cassiel for being allowed to be the one to stab War. 

Laughter slipped from lips, easy and low, a testament to the fact that no matter how much things changed, Renee always felt the same way about Crowley: that she was far more dear than anyone else would imagine if they only looked at the surface chaos. “I would,” she countered, easily ignoring the excuse Crowley made as another blush crept up on her, light smirk flitting across face at the reaction, before it was replaced with a smile. “And it’s rather sweet in its way, as is the compliment. Thank you.” She paused then, glancing through the crowd, gaze settling on the object of the original object of discussion. “If you’d like a second shot at a better conversation, I think I can manage to arrange that for you.” It was a kindness made of fondness, of the fact that Crowley liked her for what she was rather than anything she could pretend to be and that Crowley bothered to redirect the conversation to compliment her when it was no less than expected that she’d turn out and do it well. “I probably owe her thirty seconds and a greeting anyway,” Renee added with a shrug, before she shook her head at the question, shrugging lightly a second time. “Of what? Her dress or something else?” Then she smiled, “Because her dress is spectacular, but I haven’t the slightest clue about any of the rest of it.”

“Get her a death wish red-eye,” Maria said, stepping up beside Crowley and smiling at the barista. “Actually, make it two, please.” The fact that this coffee shop was still running, if without the flavored creams and at a nearly quadruple price jump, was one of the few things that kept her motivated to continue. Without coffee, the world was well and truly at an end. 

She turned to her battered companion and studied her, chewing on her lip. The plan to stop the horsemen had been an epic failure. The grails had done nothing. Why had the horsemen gone to such great lengths to steal and hide them if they didn’t have any effect? Somehow, she’d gotten it wrong and now she had to figure out how. Or you could just accept that this is the end. It’s not like you haven’t tried to fight it, you just failed. Maria shoved the thoughts aside, turning her attention back to Crowley. 

“You look like you lost a fight with a wood chipper… you gonna make it?”

Crowley had wished it was Kezia. She knew that friendships with humans were sometimes pointless due to her extended lifetime - that had been one of her first lessons - but Crowley genuinely missed Kezia. She had considered the human one of her closest friends in Los Angeles but she hadn’t expected to feel so knotted up. It only added to the pain she was in but at least she could pick her physical scabs. Still, she smiled at Maria, refusing to wince and showing at least two teeth missing. “How kind of you Maria.”

Maria had faced Pestilence and lived, once again proving she was more than just a book smart pretty face. “If the woodchipper were named Heath Allen and Donato slash Famine then yes, I definitely got my ass kicked by a woodchipper.” She paused. 

“Perhaps a pap could,” Isaiah said, mimicking the wink Crowley gave him. But his thoughts were racing — did she know the depth of the doubts that Isaiah had about his choice in churches? Did she know that he had been wanting to change for months now?

But she continued, a half-crazed sort of laugh popping out of her along with a matching expression of wide eyes that seemed to sparkle at Isaiah’s statement about trying to fuck Satan. He smiled, cheeky, “I aim to be unpredictable.” A laugh bubbled out of him at Crowley’s comment about Satan’s closet. “It’s a pretty smart decision that I’ve made, I’ll admit.” He decided not to pry into the Hell comment, even though his mind was yelling about how much he could learn from Crowley.

She got him stammering again. “I— um, just- uh… no,” he shook his head a little bit, “I didn’t have a bad father, I just, um, I just don’t think I’m quite the type to continue that.”

The subject changed. This Isaiah knew about. “I think Eli is gonna win something,” Isaiah said it plainly, biting the inside of his cheek, debating on if he should explain any further. He decided not to. “He’s been… lucky lately.” Because he sold his soul, Isaiah thought, cheating bastard.

“You aim to be unpredictable and you succeed. I could love you for that.” Crowley murmured, pleased by the laughter escaping out of Isaiah. As an oddball of sorts herself, she had a special kind of fondness for others like her. Not to mention if she invited Isaiah to go cryptid hunting, he would absolutely say yes. And that was a huge plus in her book. 

She got him stammering again. Crowley waited patiently for him to speak, feeling no guilt about continuously spooking him. Everything was more truthful that way anyway. “Ah, just don’t want any womb goblins, I understand. I’ve never been quite fond of them anyway but I hear they’re entertaining from time to time.” 

Crowley had never wanted children for the sole reason that she didn’t want to be tied down. No matter her decision, she had always been sure that she’d be a better mother than her own parents. But then again, a rock could have been better parents. 

This wasn’t the first time Renee had attended the Oscars. It wasn’t the second or the third, even, either. She’d been half a dozen times over the years simply because she kept company with the glitterati easily enough ( she was that in her own fashion ), and it had always been in her best interest to be seen. It was hard to accept that it would be the last, but for every clever thing she had ever done in developing the Sinners, she still hadn’t the slightest idea how to make a God created problem go away and short of someone else coming up with something clever, they were all shit out of luck. Since that was the case, it seemed apropos to ignore it entirely and enjoy the evening best as she was able ( and she was getting very good at that ). For her a great deal of doing so came in watching the evening unfold, watching as an evening that fit her sensibilities altogether too well in its selfishness became, watching people indulge in it. Irritation slipped across face as she was prevented from obtaining champagne by another’s hand, as she continued to watch the room, though it faded visibly, when Renee realized it was Crowley. Hand snagged a different flute, before she took the opportunity to tease lightly, “Was that you I saw blush as Lena said hello?”